


Mismatched

by writer12306



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Fluffy moments?, Gets fairly dark, Momranda, mentions of neglect and abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writer12306/pseuds/writer12306
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things change in a world where Allen never encounters Mana, and instead meets Miranda when the circus he travels with goes through Germany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mismatched

Cold

It had been another failure of a day for Miranda. She had lost another job. Even though she had only just started trying to live on her own she had managed to lose three jobs. It chipped away at her confidence. She had been so excited to prove herself to her parents, at first, but soon it proved that perhaps everyone she had met in her childhood was right. She wasn't capable of doing anything that she wanted to without failing miserably.

As she was walking home, Miranda noticed a commotion in the streets not far ahead. It drew her interest, if nothing else, so she went to see what was going on.

"Look at him, he's probably some satanic child!"

"He'll be better without that arm. Why don't we help him get rid of it."

The subject of these comments was a dirty, scrawny child. He desperately tried to worm his way out of the grasp of the person holding him. His little, thin arm was pulled high for everyone to see. The skin was scaly and red and it really did look horrid.

"Stop it!" Miranda rushed over when she noticed the way the child was being treated. "Stop this! Let him go!" She caught the wrist of the man who held the child.

She earned little more than a glance before the man's hand was hitting her cheek in a ringing smack. It brought sharp tears to her eyes, but she wouldn't give up. Maybe had it been something else she wouldn't have even got involved, but the child looked so terrified. "I said leave him alone!"

The child's terrified wailing had stopped by then, and he looked at her with awe-filled silver eyes. To him, she seemed quite strange. No one ever stood up for him. But she was. She was standing up for him and even continuing after she had been struck. He just watched her bicker with the man holding his arm for everyone to see with a look of wonder.

"This child is hardly human," one of the people who had seen the boy's arm spat bitterly. "Why would you defend a misfit like this?"

"Let him go," Miranda tried to make herself seem as menacing as she could. It didn't do much good, her eyes always looked exhausted and now was now different despite the aggression she tried to work up. If anything she just looked annoyed. "Let him go now."

"Fine, you want the kid to be so safe, you can have him," with another slap to Miranda's other cheek, the man practically tossed the child at her.

Once the group of people were out of earshot, the child glared after them. The helpless look he had had moments before was replaced by a skittish, but aggressive, one. "Y-You f***ing morons! You better leave me alone!"

Miranda's eyes widened at the child's foul language as he shouted more profanities after the people. She shook off the surprised and gently asked, "You're not too hurt, are you? Oh, you poor thing. It's cold out, and you don't even have a proper coat. Do you need somewhere to stay? I can get you some food, too."

The child immediately stopped shouting the profanities when she started talking. He gave her an odd look. After a few moments, he said, "You ain't gonna start screaming and calling me a devil child?"

"No, of course not! That would be a horrible thing to do," Miranda quickly said. "It's cold out here, let's go somewhere warm. Do you have parents nearby, or should I let you come stay with me?"

The child paused. He seemed untrusting of her her as he gave a shrug and said, "I don't got parents... They left me at the circus with Cosimo..."

"Oh, you poor, poor thing!" Miranda fretted, "I can take care of you. You can come live with me!" She quickly offered.

For the longest time he looked at her as if she were very, very dumb. He looked at his arm and said, "You can see, can't you? What about this?" He propped his arm up with his other hand. It seemed the arm was immobile.

"Of course I can see, and I can see your arm just fine. Just because it looks strange doesn't mean you should be treated so terribly." She carefully took off her scarf and offered it to him. "This should keep you warm until we get home." She seemed to have no hesitation in not specifying it were her own home.

He gave the scarf a long, skeptical look. Finally, he took it and wrapped it around himself. It was warm, and he could use it to cover his arm with.

Miranda offered him a hand, but didn't seem too surprised when he paid it no mind. She glanced at him and started walking. She never walked too quickly for him to keep up and always made sure he didn't get lost. When they got to her apartment she opened the door and let him walk in. It was warm, thanks to the wood furnace that was in the buildings basement and constantly pumping hot air into all of the small rooms. "I know it's not much, but you can have my bed. I'll sleep on the floor. You should take a bath to warm up. I'm afraid I don't have any clothes that would fit you well, but I have something that might work. It would be better than those dirty clothes. I can take you to get more clothing, tomorrow." In her ramblings Miranda hadn't noticed the child stopping to look around the little apartment in awe. He had hardly left the circus grounds established by the traveling circus had established; he had only been in a building twice in his life and both times were unpleasant.

"This place is d*** nice..." his little silver eyes had widened as he looked around. It was a three room apartment. There was one room that doubled as a living room, dining room, and bedroom that served as the main part of the apartment. To the left was a doorway that led to the kitchen, and to the right was a door that led to the bathroom.

Miranda, when she heard him, stopped talking. "Well, I know it's not much, but, you can stay here with me from now on, if you would like. I would make sure to provide you with food, I could possibly help you with school work, if you ever needed help. I'd make sure you always had clothes that were in good condition and fit properly."

"You're strange, lady," the child said simply, "You don't even know my name and you're almost adopting me."

"Oh, I don't know your name! I'm sorry. Do you have a name? What is it?" Miranda asked with a small smile. She missed the point of his words.

The kid gave another sigh, "I go by Red... Not really my name. Just what people call me..." He spoke in an oddly mature manner, for a child his age. Well, not mature. He spoke like an adult with a foul mouth and poor literacy, but he didn't speak like a child.

"Are you happy with the name Red?" she asked him.

Again, he gave her one of those strange looks. "Why the f*** would I be happy with a name some p****s gave me?"

"Would you like to go by another name? I could help you come up with something," she still didn't scold him on his language. Maybe, if he continued to speak like that even once he was settled in with her she would confront him on his foul mouth.

There was that look, again. After a couple of minutes, Red just wordlessly nodded.

"Well, first, let's get you settled in. You can take a bath, I'll make you some dinner, then we can come up with a new name for you to go by while we're eating," she offered him a sweet little smile.

The child gave her a blank look for a long few moments before asking, in a quite dumb tone, "The hell's a bath?"

"Oh, well, it's where you wash your skin, usually with soap and water. Here, let me show you where the bath tub is and show you how to use it," Miranda walked him to the small bathroom. The tub was small, but it had water running to it. Thankfully it had warm running water, as well. "This handle here will turn the water on. If you wait long enough warm water will start running through." She explained.

Red jumped back when the water gushed from the faucet. After a few moments he walked over and leaned against the edge of the tub beside her to look at the water filling the tub. Steam was slowly starting to rise; Miranda felt the water and carefully adjusted the handle to cool it down a little so it wouldn't scald his skin.

"If the water is too hot, either push this handle back," she motioned to the hot water, then to the cold water one with her next word, "Or you could push this one forward." She showed him what she meant. "And if it gets too cold, just do the opposite."

The child nodded in vague understanding of what she was explaining. He reached out to feel the water in the tub. It was nice, compared to the chilling air outside.

"Here's the soap, and the shampoo, as well," Miranda carefully set them where he could easily reach them.

Red gave the items a blank look when she set them in front of him. He looked back at her, "What do I do with these...?" The only time he had seen soap was when he had scrubbed cages at the circus.

"You wash yourself. The soap is for your skin, you just get it wet and rub it over your skin until it leaves bubbles," Miranda explained. She picked up the soap and dipped it in the water before rubbing it between her hands to show what she meant about the bubbles. She rinsed her hands off and put the soap off to the side. "The shampoo is for your hair. You just get your hair wet and, get some shampoo on your hands, and rub it into your hair until it forms bubbles. When it does, rinse it out of your hair. Be careful not to get it in your eyes, though. It stings if it gets in your eyes."

The child nodded, again, in half-understanding.

"I'm afraid your clothes wouldn't dry fast enough if I washed them now. Tomorrow we can get you something new to wear," Miranda said thoughtfully. "If you need anything, just holler. I'll be in the kitchen making dinner." With that she stood from where she had been kneeling beside the tub and went to the kitchen. She closed the door behind her so Allen wouldn't have to worry about doing so.

She went to the kitchen and began trying to see what she could make. She didn't want to make anything too rich, because the child would likely be underfed. She didn't want to accidentally make him sick. In the end, she made chicken soup. She was just covering the pot of boiling liquid when the child shouted for her. She hurried to the bathroom, "Red, what's wrong?"

"Shampoo got in my eye and it f***ing hurts!" the child hollered back.

"Oh dear..." Miranda pushed the door open. She turned on the cold water faucet. "Just tilt your head back. I'm going to pour a bit of cold water over your face. It should make your eye stop stinging as much." She cupped her hands under the faucet once icy water was gushing out. She carefully poured it over his face once he had tilted his head back.

This seemed to work in rinsing his eye out, as the child stopped complaining about it after he had blinked the icy water out of his eyes.

"Let me help you rinse the rest of that out of your hair," she gently offered. When the child nodded his consent to her help she had him tilt his head back again. She carefully poured water over his messy red hair. Once she had rinsed out all of the shampoo she got a towel, "Here, go ahead and get out and dry off. I'll drain the water out once you're out."

The child did as told and quickly clambered out of the tub. He gave a mumbled thanks when the towel was wrapped around him. He began drying himself off. Miranda pulled the drain in the tub and went to go check on the soup so he could get dressed in peace.

When Red came out of the bathroom his hair was still almost dripping wet and his clothes were barely dry after being put on such wet skin. Miranda noticed this. "Oh, dear, you should have dried off a bit more." She went and got the towel. "May I dry your hair off, for you?"

Red gave a nod and a grumbled, "Yeah, sure..." He seemed a bit caught off guard when the towel was plopped down on his hair and rubbed vigorously over his hair until it was puffed out and mostly dry.

"There, you won't catch a cold, that way! If you leave your hair dripping, you might get sick easier," she explained. "Now that you're dry, why don't you go sit at the table. Dinner is just about ready.

Red gave a nod. The sudden change was so unfamiliar. The warmth, the kindness, the smell of good food that he knew he would get a portion of, and someone worrying about his health, were all things that he was so unused to that it was almost disorienting to have it all around so suddenly. He went to the small table in the room and looked at the chair. He then went and climbed on the bed where he would be a bit closer to the table. it was soft and the fuzzy blanket felt nice when his hands brushed against it. His left arm still hung limply beside his body.

"I made some chicken soup. I'm afraid it's the only thing I can really make without burning it," she gave a small chuckle. She cut a slice of bread for him, and gave it to him along with the bowl. She also gave him some dried fruit she had. "If that's too much, don't feel like you need to eat it all. Don't make yourself sick. And on the contrary, feel free to ask for seconds."

Red's little eyes had widened at the food place in front of him and he didn't seem to know what to eat first. He carefully picked up the bread and happily ate it when he discovered it wasn't stale. "Thanks, lady!"

"You're welcome," she smiled softly. She ate her own food. After Red had started eating a bit slower, she softly asked, "So, Red, do you have any ideas of what you would like to be called instead of Red?"

The child stopped and thought with his spoon still stuffed in his mouth. After a little while he took it out of his mouth, swallowed, and said, "What about Allen...?" In all of his memories Red could only remember one creature before this Miranda woman ever showing him some form of kindness and it was one of the performing dogs at the circus. The little hound had laid next to him at night when it was cold, and had also kept the fleas away by doing such. He didn't know what ever happened to the dog or its owner, but he remembered the dog was called Allen.

"I think that sounds like a wonderful name," she smiled sweetly at him. "From now on, I'll call you Allen."

The corner of Allen's mouth twitched up in a little smile as he picked up the spoon in front of him and started eating the soup. He had finished off the dry fruit and the bread, but he still had a bit of an appetite left. He didn't bother completely swallowing the bite of soup in his mouth before mumbling, "Thanks... This is really d*** good."

Miranda practically beamed at the child, "I'm glad you like it! If you need any more, there's still plenty that you can have."

Allen thought for a few long moments before shaking his head, "This is enough." He wanted to eat more, out of instinct, but he knew that if he are much more at the moment he would make himself sick. It had happened almost every time he had had lots of food. He carefully pushed the half-full bowl of soup away.

"Then you should get some sleep soon," she smiled softly. "I hope you don't mind if I take one of the pillows. I have another blanket somewhere that I can use, so I won't have to take one from the bed." As she was saying this she stood and carefully moved the table away from the bed. She gathered the dishes and took them to the other room so that she could wash them in a few moments. When she came back she carefully made up her own bed on the couch.

Allen got off of the bed and walked towards the couch, but was stopped by a soft smile from Miranda.

"You can sleep on my bed. I'll sleep on the couch," the smile that stretched across her lips could only be described as sweet and gentle as she carefully led him back to the bed. "Do you think you'll be able to fall asleep?"

Allen gave a little shrug. He normally didn't sleep well; he had grown used to staying very on guard any time that he was trying to sleep so he was never truly relaxed enough to sleep deeply.

"Would you like me to tell you a story to help you fall asleep?" she offered this with that gentle smile still on her lips.

He quickly shook his head, "No... Th-That's for little kids..."

"Very well," she couldn't help a small little laugh, "I'll be in the other room washing the dishes. If you need anything, just give a holler."

His response was a small little nod. He still couldn't help marveling at the soft blanket as he curled up in it. He was restless and took a long while tossing and turning before he finally managed to try and settle down. The warmth the blanket offered help him relax a small bit but his normal instincts were still there and they made him try to stay alert despite his drooping eyelids.

Miranda did her best to be quiet washing the dishes in the other room. When she finished washing the dishes and putting up the remaining food she turned out the lights and went to the main room of the house. She quietly turned out the lights and laid down on the couch that she had put a blanket and pillow on for herself earlier. She settled down, but her usual insomnia plagued her.

**Author's Note:**

> I will try to update this more regularly than my other stories! No promises, though, because I am very scatterbrained and usually too exhausted to write much.


End file.
